Pied Piper
by 0renginal
Summary: Not your average X-Men story. Follow the life of a girl by the name of Piper Williams as she learns to control her mutant abilities. Unfortunately for her, it's going to be a bumpy ride. Set before the the first movie. [[HAITUS]]
1. Chapter 1

It was a bright sunny day in the backyard of the comfortable Oklahoman home. A little girl danced in the rays, twirling and humming and singing with no real conviction or purpose if only to spread warmth. Looking at her outfit, one would think her weird, with her yellow short sleeve shirt under her bright red sundress. Strange in how woodland creatures from the forest behind the home were dancing with her; everything from baby deer and birds to snakes and rabbits slithered and flew and danced all around her, seeming in perfect harmony, any past hate or hunger far away from their minds.

Inside the house the girl's parents stood, behind a tightly shut door with every window in the building locked and sealed air-tight. They did not want to risk being entranced by their child's voice.

The beautiful mother turned in her husbands arms, looking up at him with unshed tears in her blue eyes. The handsome young man shifted from his child to his wife, sighing at her unasked question.

"I don't know what we are going to do with her," He said quietly, as if to avoid his daughter hearing him, his southern accent obvious and thick. "There is no place to go for her." _No place safe for her, no place for others to be safe from her._

"But-" The woman choked on a sob searching for words. Her wavy blond hair curled around her face, making a curtain as she dipped her head. "There must be some place- other people like her. She's just not natural!" She cried, almost throwing her hands up in despiration. Her voice had risen to manic levels, and her husband hurried to calm her. She did so slowly and with many hiccups.

"Maybe there will be later," the man soothed, running his fingers through her soft hair. "For now, all we can do is wait and shield her from others." _And others from her._

The woman sniffed loudly and turned her head to watch her daughter playing "Sing and Reply," a game the young girl made up to play with her wildlife friends. She would sing a short tune and the birds would gather and repeat it. She would sing a longer series of notes, and would get a replay back. This continued until the birds had memorized a whole song, consisting of absurdly high and low notes. She would often wake to the same song they learned the next morning, even without her child instigating the chorus.

"We'll home school her," the woman decided, looking up at her husband determinly, even with her watery eyes. "Make sure no one comes near, make sure she never sings." The man nodded, if only to placate her. They both knew that her singing only affected animals, but the young girl had a childish temper that would send a boar raming into some poor boys gut if she were to be angered.

"Alright," The man said quietly. They both looked out at their daughter, who appeared to have tired out. She sat in the middle of the yard, her long red sundress spread around her, her eerie red and yellow eyes sparkling as she looked at all the animals around her. It seemed that even without needing to sing the animals were her friends. She looked genuinely happy, as she always did when she was with them. Part of him wanted her to always be as happy as she looked right then.

The other part wished she was never born.

Years later, piano drifted flawlessly throughout the house. The girl, now nine years old, sat at the new grand piano playing a rather lazy and peaceful song. Her mother and father sat across the room, watching and critiquing her. She finished and turned on the bench, searching her parents for any praise they may have to offer. Her father nodded stiffly, and her mother didn't seem to be paying any attention, instead staring at a wall.

The girl hopped off the stool and approched her father. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but a loud series of knocks cut him off. He turned to his wife, mirroring her fearful look, and nodded. Her mother stood and put a cold hand on her shoulder, steering her away without much of a fight. The girl was not ignorant to their fear; they didn't want her within sight when normal people came around.

_Normal..._

Before she could think anymore on the matter, her mother roughly pushed her outside into the backyard. Another few knocks echoed and her mother gave her a look before returning inside, shutting the door behind her. The child sighed. She didn't blame her parents.

But as she sat on her knees in the middle of the yeard, facing the trees with her face tilted towards the warmth of the sun, she quickly grew bored. She spared a glance towards the patio doors before making her decision. She took a few deep breathes to calm her nerves, then slowly and meticulously cleared her head. It had a better effect if her mind was clear. When she felt ready, she took another breath and sang.

The effect was immediate and obvious. The forest went immediately silent as she sang a long, sad note that even she had trouble hearing. It told of how she felt now; alone, nervous, and sad. She started to think of how she wanted to feel and her voice changed, to a higher, more confident note. Soon a ladder of notes swam through the trees, playing with higher notes that became increasingly more playful and pleasant as she became lost in her own voice. She watched as a few grey squirrels hopped through the long grass and switched tunes again, this time to a melody of shyer, more welcoming notes. She held her palm up to the rodents, inviting them to come keep her company. The squirrels wasted next to no time in acompaning their old friend.

When the squirrels were comfortable with her again, she switched back to her playful notes. They reminded her of a video game that her parents once let her play. Maybe that is why she felt the tune appropriate? She didn't dwell on it now, as more creatures emerged from the wood. More squirrels emerged, along with some tiny blue birds and even a brown and tan one. She felt no need to go back to the tame tunes, as they would see the squirrels playing in her lap and not be afraid. She smiled as a baby deer and her mother came to the clearing, and could almost swear the mother smiled back. She giggled as a skunk wrapped itself around her neck, the stiff fur tickling her. That was what she loved about her friends; even when she wasn't singing, they stayed. The song was more like a calling for a meeting, but for friends. She continued humming however, even singing nice and loud when it seemed they were begging her to continue.

She was petting the faun's wet snout when she heard the back door slam shut, making her jump. She felt the magic break in the animals as she jerked to look behind her. She only had to see her fathers angry red and purple face to know that it was time for them to leave. She quickly stood up, gathering the skunk around her neck and setting it gently on the ground. She motioned for them all to leave and they did, all of them escaping just as her father reached her.

She whimpered as her fathers thick fingers wrapped around her arm tightly. She could almost hear him growling as he stood over her, breathing heavily in anger. She felt herself shrink away from him, turning her face down and away, just as she had seen some wild dogs do when their elders were mad at them. It didnt seem to help her however, as she felt his grip tighten and he yanked her up farther than she was supposed to. She cried out, but her father didnt seem to hear her as he pulled her along, mumbling all the way. She couldn't listen to him through the hard beating of her heart, concentrating on trying to slide her fingers in between her arm and his fingers to try and loosen them. She had never before seen him so angry, and she was well and truely scared.

She gave up trying to make him let go and looked around, thinking that they were taking a rather long time to get to the back door. Her efforts to get away were renewed as she realized that they weren't going inside the house. They were going towards the shed. The man before her growled and jerked her, causing a wave of pain to travel up her arm and effectively silence her. She didn't know what her father was going to do to her, but she knew that it wouldn't be plesant.

It took only a moment for her father to unlock the shed and shove her through the open door. She tripped over her feet from the force of it, and lay on the ground panting. She listened to the angry man lock the door from the inside, mumbling and grumbling away. She just couldn't bring herself to listening to him. Her arm was aching from his grip, she had scraped her knee on the way down, and she had to bit her lip to keep herself from crying.

She could just barely hear him moving to the back of the shed. She sat up a little and looked around. It was the first time she had ever been in the shed. Rusted old-time saws that must have belonged to her great great grandfathers hung high on the walls. Other sharp instraments were hung and leaning on the wall, and in her position they all looked dangerous and and frightening. She whimpered again as she heard her father walking towards her from the back and started shuffling backwards, almost in a crabwalk. Her eyes widened as she spied the big belt he had in his hand, dragging along the floor. She would have thought it a whip if it didn't have the grooves of some industrial machine.

Her father snarled as he saw her scamper away from him, turning around and crawling on her hands and knees to move faster. He continued advancing until she met the wall, turning around and staring up at him with wide, scared eyes. She tried to make herself smaller, but he grabbed her by her arm and yanked her up, making her yelp again in pain.

"Do you have any idea what you almost done?" He snarled. Spit flew out of his mouth and hit her in the face, making her turn her head more. Her shook her hard and she cried out. "Answer me!" She opened her mouth to answer but he threw her down. "They almost saw you! They almost _heard_ you!" The girl stared at him, uncomprehending what he meant. It made him all the more angry.

Never since she had shown her ability did he beat her, whether in punishment or otherwise. He didn't even touch her. As if she had been a disease he had never gone near her. Even know as she was feet away from him did he feel the urge to run away form her in disgust. He felt dirty from the moment he had gripped her arm, and he needed to take a very hot shower when he was done. Now, he knew that she would never learn to hide her disease just by them telling her to not do it. He would finally get to hurt this disgusting creature, get to cure it one hit at a time. Hopefully in time all the slime filling her DNA would ooze away. She would learn to never sing; he even hoped she would never talk.

"Get up," he growled. She started, but didn't move. "Get up!" He cried, raising the belt above his head and bringing it down. With a great smack like thunder it hit her skin. She screamed, sending a thrill through him he'd never felt. When he saw she wasn't moving to get up, only holding her arm above her head to shield her from incoming blows, he struck again. The shed filled with cries and smacks, and soon the sobs of the tiny girl filled in the silence in between. Now that he had started, he didn't feel like stopping. He had no idea why he hadn't done this sooner, why he hadn't taken out his hate and disgust and frustration on the monster that had ruined his life by simply being born.

He began to tire, his breathing becoming harbored and his muscles starting to ache from the sudden excersize. He stopped to admire his work and wipe the sweat from his brow. The girl looked on the brink of conciousness, and the repeated strikes in the same places made her ooze blood from cuts on her arms, legs, and face. Salty tears leaked generously from her eyes, and she could barely find strength to whimper in pain. He could already see bruises make patterns whereveer he hit, crisscrossing like some sadistic puzzle. The most obvious one so far was the hand prints on her upper arms. He set the belt on a bench and turned to leave, but her whisper made him pause.

"Da-daddy..." Her word barely louder than a breath. He felt furious again and turned, bring his foot back and slamming into her gut hard enough to make her body slide. Her breath exited her suddenly, and her body shook as she faught to breathe. His lips curled up into a mixture of a snarl and a grin, and he spit on her. Her body was racked in a sob as he answered her.

"I consider you no child of mine," his voice laced with malice and hate. "You are the spawn of some demon in Hell." He turned and opened the door, walking through it. It was sunny outside, as if nothing had happened inside the shed. She watched, her eyes both swelling as he walked up the hill to the house. Even as her vision began to develop black along the edges, she could hear the squeeky screen door swing open and slam shut again as her father entered the house.

Her mind was blissfully blank as the pain along her body began to ebb away. Her head thunked on the ground as it went limp, and her lungs let out a long sigh. She closed her eyes and her body went limp. The dark was welcoming, and she both hoped and feared that she would never see the light again. The man that she had known as her dad was no longer, and she was not so stupid as to belive otherwise. Still, a part of her hoped that he would regret his actions when she awoke. She was not so smart as to belive otherwise to that feeling.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: A thousand thanks to Echo Dancer who was my first reviewer of Pied Piper. I hope this chapter is as good as you hoped. And others, please don't hesitate to review!

The young girl watched as she dabbed an alchohol-soaked cotton ball to her newest cut. She was transfixed as red-tainted foam bubbled and disinfected her wound. When her mother found the trail of blood she had left on her hardwood she was going to be in trouble. Half her body was numb and she had had to drag herself up the stairs. It had taken hours for her father to stop this time, and she sported some major gashes on her arms and legs that she needed to clean and dress before she passed out from blood loss.

Her father seemed to believe that beating her was the only way to get rid of the disease in her. "Bleeding out the bad blood" it seemed. She had no reason to believe the opposite; it seemed ever since it started she had found the urge to sing less and less. She hardly went out of the house except when she had to go to the shed. She didn't eat as much as she used to when she was nine, and her father only gave her scraps anyway. She had begun to feel a huge sense of emptyness growing over time, and had wondered if that was what it felt like to be normal. Scars were tattooed into her skin; criss crossed tread marks all over her arms and face, and the bruises in various forms of fingers and hand prints circling her neck and arms and ankles were constant even though they moved places.

Her parents had begun to act different ever since it began. Her father now showed just how much he hated her, snarling at her and verbally beating her down. No matter how many times she told herself the opposite, it still hurt. It felt like a huge spike was being hammered into her chest every time he spoke. It felt worse than the physical wounds because the gashes and bruises would heal with time. It felt like the inner wounds would never heal. Perhaps her father knew that.

Her mother seemed to avoid her like the plague. She never looked at her, and never came out from her room when her father beat her. She felt angry at first, but she forgave her mother. She was a freak, no matter whose blood she belonged to. She would be frightened if she were her mother too. She was glad that her mother hid from her, no matter how many times it bruised her heart. She didn't participate in the beatings. That was a good sign. She wouldn't believe that her mother loved her though, not any more. Her mother hardly hugged her before, so she believed that her mother had never loved her.

The girl finished cleaning the cuts on her arms and legs and slowly dressed them. Just as she was putting her equipment away, she heard a knock on her door. It was light, almost shy. She felt herself staring at the wood oddly. Her father never knocked, and there was no one else in the house. It must be her mother. Trying not to be rude, she quickly cleared her throat and called for her to come in. Her mother did, and her eyes were trained on the ground or anywhere else besides her face. She had in her hand a small book that looked to be made of hide.

It didn't look like her mother was angry at her or anything. In fact she looked rather scared. Feeling a subtle rush of emotion, she scooted over on the bed and patted beside her. Her mother seemed to let out a breath and shut the door behind her, then gently took a seat on the bed. Her daughter faced her and stared up at her expectantly, not wanting to push her mother or scare her away. It seemed even now her mother had chosen to sit as far away as possible. She merely stared at her lap where her hands were fiddling with the gold-lined book.

The girl was just starting to wonder if she should speak first when her mother jerked the book out to her. She stared for a moment, as if wondering if it would bite, and gently took the book in her hands. She observed it. The leather hide felt rough against her hands, but it seemed worn away at the edges were the book opened. When she ran her fingers over the pages, opening it cautiously, the pages were almost see through because they were so thin. The words were not worn away however, and near the back of the book she saw that some words switched from red to black and back again. It almost seemed as if the book held a power that she couldn't place. When she looked at the cover, The Holy Bible was etched in the brown hide. She looked at her mother curiously.

"It-It's the Bible," she answered akwardly. She coughed and tried to gether her courage. The girl gave her a little respect and stared at the book instead, running her pale fingers over it. "It tells you everything about God..." She seemed to trail off and her daughter looked at her. She looked to be fighting something and the girl resisted every nerve that wanted to scoot over and give her strength. She thought of a mantra to repeat in her head until her mother came to her senses. She repeated something her father had said once. _I could be contagious. I could be contagious. I could be contagious..._

Her mother seemed to come to in a few minutes. She looked determinedly at her daughter, as if she'd made some kind of marvelous decision. "This is the Bible," she repeated, this time with confedence. "It was passed to humans by God to tell them of His grace..." Her daughter sat there in wonder as her mother explained the books, the New and Old Testaments, the beginning of the world and humans. Her mother seemed exausted by the time she was finished explaining it all and the girl was almost suprised to see just how old her beautiful mother looked. Her daughter studied her face, looking at all the wrinkles she had never seen before then. She decided it only made her mother more beautiful.

The girl looked down when she realised that she had been staring at her. Even as she looked down in shame, she felt a smile twitch at her lips. For the first time in months, even a year, she felt whole. She felt like singing. She felt her face flush at the thought, and it felt like her blood was on fire and her skin felt like ice. She stared down at the book in wonderment, wondering what she was feeling. She swallowed thickly as the feeling faded away and she looked back up at her mother. She was also looking down, looking increadibly serene. As daughter watched mother, she forgave her for everything she had or hadn't done. She slowly reached over and slid her hand under her mothers, gripping it with finality. She smiled at her mother when she looked at her, obviously startled. Her mother startled her when she brought her hand up and kissed it, holding it in her aging hand.

She watched as her mother stood and made her way to the door. She open and shut the door without a sound, and the girl was left alone with her new thoughts. She lay down on her stiff matress, careful of her injuries, and opened the book to the first page of the first book. _Genesis..._

The girl groaned when she woke the next morning. Her bones cracked and her muscles were stiff as she stretched, and her eyes seemed caked over. But her spirit jumped as she opened her eyes finally to see the Bible given to her by her mother. She had read well into the night before sleep claimed her, and had read until Genesis 7. She had felt sick when she read of Cain and Abel and the others who killed, but felt awed at all the children they all had and the flood. She had had to stop reading before her head exploded, and decided before that she would read only a little at a time.

She saw the sun peeking over the horizon and quickly brushed her teeth and hair and dressed in the yellow shirt and red dress that she had yet to grow out of. She opened and slid through the door and headed down the stairs, readying herself for the morning. But when she looked up and to the living room, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Standing there were two men, looking official. One stood tall with red glasses, facing directly at her father who looked to be furious. The other stranger was sitting in a chair with wheels. He looked guilty to her, but when he turned to her he smiled. She nearly jumped when he did, and turned to run upstairs, but her fathers shout stopped her.

"Filth!" He cried at her, storming over. The man with glasses took a step forward, but the other man stopped him. She barely saw before her vision was filled with her father and his hate. She felt her body cower and she cried out when her burried his thick hands into her hair, dragging her back down the stairs. Fire erupted in her scalp and she had to remind herself that she had felt worse before the tears boiled over her cheeks. Her eyes clenched shut so she couldn't see where they stopped, but she had a feeling she was in front of the two men. Her knees were weak, and she felt hairs being pulled as she was held up by her hair. She had to hold her beath and she barely heard her father speaking. "Look at them! Tell them that I'm curin' you." He growled. He waited for a moment before shaking her, making her cry out. "I said look at 'em!" She gasped and cracked one of her eyes open. Just seeing the looks they were giving her made her want to cry. She opened her mouth to say something but she couldn't. She choked down a sob. No matter how hard she tried to be strong, her father always made her cry. _Help me, please.._

The older man in the wheelchair looked at her father. "I have to ask you to put your daughter down." He had an accent that was very different than her father and mother's. He was going to say something else but her father cut him off.

"You'll not tell me what I ought or not ought to do with my scum," he cut him off. She'd never seen him so furious with someone other than her, and it made her more scared than when he was mad at her. _Please don't hurt them._

The old man continued as if he'd never been interupted. "We are going to take her someplace safe-" He ignored her father again as he started to rant more, "-and we will make sure she is well fed and taken care of and learns to control her unique abilities." Her heart jumped as he spoke and she stared at him in disbelief, before she clenched her eyes again as her father shook her.

"I'm takin care of that problem already!" He nearly shouted, shaking her at them. His anger making his drawl even more obvious. "She ain't sang a note since I've beaten her a year ago, and she's doin everythin I say!" The glasses man had a dark, angry look as her father said this. The old man's lips thinned out and he looked into her squinted eyes. She tried to send him a message through her eyes. _I don't want him to hurt you, just go away, please.._ What she hadn't expected was to hear an unfamiliar voice back.

_We are going to take you away from here,_ he said. At that moment she nearly started sobbing. She was filled with a power that made her start struggling despite the pain in her head. She was filled with hope that she could get away from her father and his beatings. She cried out when her father suddenly threw her to the floor. She heard him speak from above her.

"Fine! Have the filth! I don' care!" He cried out in fury. "But not without a final goodbye present." She barely heard the sadistic pleasure in his voice before she felt a steel-toed boot in her gut, and then when she curled up she got hit again in her ribs. She cried out in pain, wrapping her arms around her and curling into a ball. Before her father could get in another hit, the man with the red glasses had hit him in the jaw with such force that he flew back. She heard the sickening thud as her fathers head hit the wall and she heard him slide down. She had the feeling he would not be getting up for a while.

She heard the man in the wheelchair tell the man with glasses to pick her up and carry her out to the car, but as she was craddled in his arm she remembered. "Wait, she gasped, looking over the mans shoulder. "My Bible! I forgot my Bible, please.." Her voice trailed off as she felt her face flush with shame. These men were doing so much for her, and here she was asking them to do more. "If it isn't too much, I mean.." She heard soft clicking and looked up. She watched unbelievingly as her mother rushed down the stairs with her Bible in her hands. She came and put the holy book in her lap, leaning over to kiss her forehead. The girl flushed and felt tears stream down her cheeks.

"Be a good girl for me, you hear?" Her mother seemed choked up as well and the girl forced herself to nod. She couldn't make her self to say anything, she felt like all the air was being choked out of her lungs. Her mother nodded at her and looked at the two men sternly, despite that one of them was older than her. "Take care of my daughter, or there'll be Hell to pay. Got it?" The man in the wheelchair chuckled, though the man that was holding her seemed to pale.

"I promise your daughter will be in safe hands." The mother nodded and made a shooing motion.

"Off you go then. I'll take care of my husband when he wakes." The men nodded and turned towards the door. The girl found her strength and looked over the mans shoulder, waving slightly to her mother.

"'Bye mama," she called softly. "I'll see you later." Her mother nodded and shut the door behind them. As she was being carried she wrapped her arms around the mans neck, feeling like a child and very scared. She stared behind them, as if waiting for her father to come storming out and take her away again and give her the worst beating so far, but he never did. She let herself be pried from the man's neck and placed into a car, waiting after her door shut for the man to help the man in the wheelchair to get in on the passenger's side, and then for the man with the glasses to get in behind the steering wheel. He turned on the car and started driving, but she felt very nervous.

She was beginning to move her Bible in her hands nevously when the older man spoke. "My name is Charles Xavier," he started, and his sudden voice made her jump. She looked at him with wide, eerie eyes. If there was any doubt she was a mutant, it was wiped away when he saw those eyes. Bright yellow irises fading into a saturated red. "I have an institute, a school, for people like us and Scott here." He motioned to the man driving and she saw him smile at her from the rearview mirror. She felt herself smile timidly back and looked down again when she felt her face flush. "Now, now, there's nothing to be ashamed of." She looked back at him, wondering how he could read her so well she didn't even need to talk. Not that she wanted to, it felt as if a swarm of crows had come and stolen her voice. "I am gifted, just like you. I am a telepath, I can read other peoples thoughts." She nodded, not really knowing what a tellypatch was but figuring she'd learn when she got to this school she was going to. "What is your name, dear?"

Now that had her staring at him oddly. She hadn't heard her name since she had first sang outside and had animals come rushing to her like old friends. It had been such a long time, but she figured since neither man knew she could tell them her name. "My name.." She coughed as her voice cracked. Xavier turned to get a bottle of water and gave it to her. They waited as the girl took a drink, relishing the cold water. She gave it back with a smile and Xavier motioned for her to go on. "My name is Piper," she said finally. "Piper Williams."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I am so sorry for the tiny chapter! I couldn't go as far as I wanted, but hey, it's something. Just so you guys know, this story is taking place years before the first movie, and I have yet to see First Class. When the time for the third movie rolls around, Piper will actually be close to Angel's age. Just wanted to clear up any confusion. Oh, and please help me keep the X-Men in character. Just tell me what I'm doing wrong with their personalities and I'll tweek them. Love!

Piper had been at the Mansion for a total of two weeks. In those first days she had met the four adults and a few of the students who inhabited the institute. She had proven to be a fast and eager learner, and now that she had the massive library in the Mansion at her fingertips, she seemed to always have her nose in a book. Though she struggled with subjects like math and science, she excelled in reading, english, and social studies. Since her father had stopped her education the day of her beatings, her IQ was well bellow normal. Now that she was at the Mansion and only inhibited by her self-imposed limit, Professor Xavier and the rest of the adults expected her to flourish.

Unfortunately, Piper didn't seem to _want_ to flourish. She usually didn't do any assignments outside of classes, never studied for tests- though there had only been one in each class so far,- and the only books she had her nose in were fiction novels. And, though they knew she was a mutant, they had yet see her excercise her talents. It had seemed that her father had literally beaten her mutant gene to submission, locking it away.

Jean seemed to take the girl's situation to heart. When she had first seen Piper Williams and her scars she had nearly started crying. Jean wanted to step in as her surragate mother, but it looked as if Piper didn't want her to. Everytime Jean had leaned in to hug her, Piper would step away. Jean seemed determined, however, and set herself to the task of making Piper's life as normal as possible.

Opposite to Jean, Scott was never out of the girls sight. She seemed to have memorized his schedule, often coming into whatever room he happened to be in with a new novel in their free time. She wouldn't instigate small talk, and instead would let him do his business while she read. Quite a few time, they would finish their work and simply talk to eachother, though it was very rarely anything other than favorite television shows and foods that only a ten year old would find captivating. He found her duckling behavior almost endearing. And if ever he felt she was getting a little claustrophobic, he could simply ask her to leave and she would. She seemed to understand.

Ororo seemed to be in the middle of the scale to the girl. Although Piper never sought her out, she never left the room when she saw her either. Piper never sat close to her, however. She got nervous around the white haired woman, and she could never figure out why. She did find the woman increadibly facinating, though, with her dark skin and white hair.

But what she had found most facinating about her stay was the Mansion itself. Never before had she seen a building so large. She had been restricted to her house and the shed before she was taken away, and now she had three stories of pure exploration. Xavier had said that some parts were being 'reconstucted'. He explained that meant that some places in the home were needing to be built again, so she wan't allowed near there because she could get hurt. The one level that Piper was not to enter upon any circumstance was the basement. It was completed, so as far as she knew, but Xavier had said she was not allowed. She'd had half a mind to go down there anyway, but then flashes of her father would spring in her minds eye. Dispite knowing that Xavier was not her father, she still feared whatever punishment he would give.

So far in her exploration she had discovered the rooms she would learn her school subjects taught by Xavier, Ororo, and Scott, the girl's dorms, the kitchen, dining room, den, bathrooms, the gardens on the girl's wing, and the school's medical bay. She knew that there was a gaming room somewhere because she had heard the few teens talking about going there, but she had yet to discover it and she feared what would happen if she were discovered following the boys.

Piper had met few children at the Mansion since most mutant's powers develop near the teen years. Her's had unfortunately awakened early, possibly at birth. As she had few friends, she spent most of her days in the den reading her newest novel or Bible or exploring the Mansion. The girl had an uncanny ability to take whatever she read from the Bible to heart, and studied what she'd learned that day almost reverently. That is, until she got exausted from it and read something else.

Another interest she had was music, which wasn't suprising really. She had taken to listening to lullabies, songs with long notes, and sad songs. Her favorite artists seemed to be Evanescense and Beethoven, dispite saying that she never judged songs by their singers. Jean had bought her several Disney musicles, including The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Tarzan, The Fox and The Hound, and Lion King. Ororo had given her her favorite movie so far, however: The Prince of Egypt. Coupled with her facination of the Bible, the movie had inspired her to be even more fervent in her readings. Many times when Scott or Jean or Ororo had ventured into the den in the early morning to find The Hunchback of Notre Dame or The Prince of Egypt playing and Piper sound asleep on the couch.

Yet despite all of the goingson in her life at the moment, she was utterly and completely bored. She had read her share of the Bible, she had just finished the first book of Artemis Fowl, she was tired of the movies she had watched so many times before, Scott was busy, she didn't feel like being by Jean, she had no idea where Ororo was, and right now the only thing she could think of doing was sitting by a large window in the den and sunbathing.

Not only that, lately she had started feeling as if the stone walls of the Mansion were closing in on her. She had seen a few of the teenagers playing around with their powers, but instead of being inspired or welcome she had felt nervous. Even now as she knew that her father was far away and unable to get to her, she was afraid he would turn a corner, grab her arm and his belt, and beat her for even thinking about singing. The past year of nearly constant beatings could not disapear in the span of a few weeks, even for a child's constantly moving mind. Every night she would dream of him in her room, towering over her, spitting at her and kicking and punching, telling her that the mansion was just a dream, that she was alone. She would wake up several times in the night, crying and layered in a cold sweat. She dared not go to Xavier or Scott about her nightmares, they had done enough for her already. The Mansion was slowly but surely being filled with a negative vibe in her eyes, and though she desperately wanted to fit in, she simply couldn't.

Just thinking about the dreams made her shiver. Wanting to get her mind off it all, she hopped off the window seat. She thought only for a moment before making her way to the kitchen, her bare feet making soft pats on the wood floors. She grunted a little as she dragged a stool to the refrigerator. She climbed on to it and pulled the freezer door open, and sifted through the groceries inside. Just as she felt the tips of her fingers going numb, she found the treat she was looking for and pulled it out and shut the door. She slid off the stool carefully, pittered over to the island where she got the stool and set the Pomegranate sherbet on top. Then she scampered over to the drawers, pulling a spoon out of one, and scampered back, climbing onto another chair and digging in. Scott, who sat off to the side at another stool, lifted an eyebrow at the smaller-than-average girl. Piper seemed ignorant, indulging on her sherbet, and it almost made him chuckle.

_Most kids would want ice cream,_ he thought. "You're going to ruin your dinner," he scolded her half-heartedly. She just shrugged and kept sucking on her spoon. He had noticed quickly that she hadn't said much since she first spoke and he wondered briefly if it was because of her father.

_Scott,_ he heard the Professor's voice in his head. _I fear that Miss Piper is getting a case of cabin fever. Find her and bring her to my office as soon as you can._

_Yes, sir,_ he thought back. He was never really sure if the Professor ever heard him when he thought back, but he didn't want to seem disrespectful if Xavier could hear him. He stood from his seat and turned his attention to the girl, who was still eating. "Come on, Piper," he said, taking the container and spoon and putting them away. "Xavier want's to see you." Piper seemed to pale slightly before sliding off the stool and tucking it in. She stood by the door waiting for him and walked behind him silently on their way to Xaviers office. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.

Soon they reached their destination and Scott held the door open for her. She walked in cautiously, but when she saw the Professor's face, she relaxed. She didn't feel like he was mad at her. Once she and Scott had taken a seat, Xavier spoke.

"Now, my dear," he began. "I have the feeling you are not feeling welcome in my mansion. May I ask why?" He watched her carefully as she bit at her lip, not looking at him. "Does it have anything to do with your teachers finding you in the den nearly every morning?" Piper looked up at him before quickly looking down. That simple gesture told him all what he knew already. He looked at Scott. He was looking at the girl with worry. Xavier had the notion that Scott would look into it now for him. When he had asked before, Scott had seemed doubtful, but now he was sure Scott would ask. He changed the subject.

"Piper," Xavier began again, but this time he waited until she looked up at him to continue. "How would you like to go to the circus?" And that look was the reason why he wanted her to look at him. Her eyes bulged out of her skull, her red and yellow eyes shining. Her mouth dropped, making a perfect oval 'o', and her shoulders slumped from pure disbelief. He didn't want to think about how long it had been since she had been anywhere other than her home.

Instead of speaking, which she seemed incapable of at the moment, she nodded, slowly at first but soon she was nodding with such enthusiasm he thought her head would fly off. It made him laugh as he motioned her away. "Alright then, dear girl, go off to your room and pack. You're going to Germany." Both Scott's and Piper's eyes widened again and Piper left with a delighted giggle, but Scott decided to stay. As soon as the door shut behind the poor girl, Scott turned on him.

"Germany? Are you serious?" He began apprehensively, but then he got a hold of himself. "You're sending the girl to Germany? Why so far? And what did you mean about her ending up in the den every morning?"

Charles waited until Scott finished before answering. "I've had the idea for a while now that Piper had been unable to sleep peacefully through the night due to nightmares." Scott's brows nit together in worry. "She dreams about her father, most likely. We should not be suprised. A child's mind does not work as ours do; she is afraid that all of this is a dream, and that she will wake up to her father's abuses once more. That is why I am sending her to Germany, to see the Munich circus." He looked pointedly at Scott. "But that is not the only reason I am sending her there. She trusts you the most, Scott, so I will send you there as her guardian. At the Munich Circus is a young man, a mutant, that I want you two to meet. We can not bring him here, as he is both happy where he is and he is a German citizen, but I would like it if Piper and this mutant meet and become friends." Scott was silent for a few moments.

"How do you know they will become friends?" Scott asked tentively. Xavier smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll find _something_ in common." Xavier didn't mention that this was also to see just how much her singing controlled. The animals there would provide diversity. If, of course, she sang at all.

A/N: Oh and I would love to thank those hundred-something people who looked at my fic! Love!


	4. Chapter 4

After packing her entire wardrobe along with a few other neccessities, Piper made her way to the front hall. Jean Grey assisted her, carrying the girl's suitcase as Piper was too small to carry it. The little girl was ecstatic and nervous at the same time but made sure to thank her for the trouble.

Soon Scott arrived and he led Piper to a very nice sports convertable that had her awed. Scott shoed her in, spoke to Jean and got in on the drivers side. He told Piper to not touch any of the buttons and they were off to the air port.

Piper was awed by the scenery as they traveled. Her mind wandered as she watched the trees as they sheltered the road in a tunnel-like formation fly by. Fields swooped and danced, and birds chirped harmoniously before drifting away. She liked the silence Scott had allowed them, but soon she was bored and started examining the car. She couldn't tell if Scott was looking at her or the road, but when she felt like he was no longer looking at her she pushed one of the buttons. Hot air drifted easily at her feet and she giggled, wiggling her toes. She looked up to see Scott smiling and grinned. Then she pushed one of the big buttons on the side of the digital glass numbers.

Piper cried out at loud drums and guitar and screaming blasted from everywhere in the car. She jerked away from the stereo and pressed against the seat, hands over her mouth as she stared at the seemingly unassuming buttons with wide eyes. She had no idea why Scot was laughing, but she felt her face heat up he turned the music off. She relaxed as her shock wore off, slowly sliding her feet off the leather and settling them back under the warm air. Her face still felt hot and something irked in her chest, but when she looked up at Scott he still had an amused grin lighting his features. Seeing him so happy, even if it was at her misfortune, made the feeling in her chest lessen.

They sat in silence for another few minutes before she saw Scott reach towards the big buttons that made the awful music from before. She neerly panicked but was curious as he turned a different nob before pushing it. The sound was much quieter than before, but still that terrible screaming. She watched as he turned the nob and settled on a number and turned up the volume. A beautiful song fluttered through the unsteady radio, without music and wholly a collection of voices joining and leaving.

"Oh, Brothers, come on down, down in the river to pray..." Her spirit lifted as she listened to the beautiful leading voice. After just a few lines she was feeling better than she had in nearly a year, her tiny frame waving slightly to the imaginary beat. Scott watched her, caught between paying attention to the road and studying Piper's reaction to the Christian song. He had seen her reading her Bible once so he had turned it to the Christian station, but he didn't think that her reaction would be this strong.

Since the song just repeated, Piper found her self humming along to the woman. Once she realized this, she stopped and pinched her lips together. But she still found herself memorized by the song.

"Oh, Sinners, let's go down, let's go down, come on down. Oh, Sinners, come on down, down to the river to pray..." Just a few more lines like that and the song ended. The absence of it left an emptiness in her chest. She had forgotton just what effect a real song, one from the heart, had felt like. She had been used to songs like in Disney movies that she had forgotton her Beethoven, among others, that always left her heart soaring. She was knocked out of her thoughts as she felt a hand on her head, musing with her hair. She looked up to see Scott with his face still turned to the road. She realized that there was another song playing and listened. The singer was again a woman, albeit her voice was much less mesmerising.

"We pray for healing, for prosperity. We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering. And all the while, You hear each spoken need, Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things. Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops, what if your healing comes through tears?" This time when she started to hum along to the song, she didn't stop herself. It couldn't possibly be bad if she sang along to a song dedicated to her God. Scott wasn't telling her to stop or anything, so it must not be bad. They were the only ones in the car, and there were no back seats. She was safe.

Scott couldn't help but feel delighted as Piper started humming to the worship song. The longer she continued, the more he felt like praising her. Pride filled him as she hummed louder. All too soon, it seemed, the song ended, and the both of them frowned at the emptiness it left. Her felt the pride and other feelings drip away and be replaced with shock. He had to try something.

Piper looked up at him as he turned off the radio, afraid she had done something wrong, but was relieved when he smiled. "Piper," he started, and she felt her lips curl downwards at the shake in his voice. "Could you," he paused, "hum for me again? I want to try something." She blinked at the request before she felt dread fill her. Scott wouldn't like her anymore when he heard her. Would he kick her out of the car? Leave her to walk all the way back to the Mansion? Would he tell Xavier? None of them had ever seen her sing, even though Xavier said he knew she was a freak. Still, she couldn't disobey Scott. She sighed, resigned to her certain fate. She thought of the last song and started humming.

Scott payed attention to everything he felt as she hummed along, the girl somehow hitting every note from the song. He could almost hear the words as he felt something growing within him. Scott motioned for her to stop with his hand and watched her face fall. He frowned and pulled off into a gas station. He needed to call Xavier.

Piper sat quietly inside the car. Well this was it. She wouldn't be going to the circus and would have to settle with living in a box or something. Maybe a group of gypsies would pick her up and she'd live like Mesmerelda. She almost smiled at the thought. It felt like forever before she saw Scott come out of the store, a bag in his hand. Her got in the car and rooted through the bag, but Piper kept her eyes down. Her father hated her looking at him when he was mad.

It was because she wasn't watching him that she jumped when a can of root beer apeared in front of her face. She followed the hand holding it to Scotts face and realized that he was smiling at her instead of snarling in disgust. She took the pop slowly and stared at it in awe before popping the top.

_I thought you hated me,_ she thought, willing him to suddenly be able to read thoughts. _You ran away and frowned and didn't like me anymore._ But he ignored her thoughts, getting ready to pull out of the parking lot.

The ride to the airport continued in silence, though the two listened to the radio the entire way. Scott noticed that Piper didn't hum along to any more of the songs and barely drank her pop. He didn't push her, and she followed him as they went through the usual airport routine, including getting lost around the Atrium and having to ask a guard to their plane. The big black man had looked suspicious of Scott, but then he looked at Piper and she captivated him with her big eyes. Soon, they were boarding the plane and Piper was coming out of her usual shyness to investigate every little thing. Scott was even having a hard time keeping an eye on her, much less keeping her in her seat. The other patrons of the plane didn't seem to mind at all, one old lady giving her a sucker to her delight and a young woman with an infant teaching her how to hold it. Piper had a great amount of charisma, Scott could see, and when taken out of her element had an immense, unsatiable curiousity.

All too soon, it seemed to Piper, it was time to lift off and she had to buckle down beside Scott. He showed her how to work the seat belt and she played with her tray while outside the plane built speed. Scott just had to watch her again as the plane left the ground; she froze, gripping the tray in her hands and stared wide-eyed at absolutely nothing. As she got used to the sudden upward movement she started giggling at the butterflies that filled her stomach, and she felt like a small child again. It touched his heart to see how out of character she was acting now that she was out of the Mansion and far, far away from her father in the Bible Belt. He wondered how cheerful she would have been had her father not turned abusive, how happy she could have been if her parents had accepted her.

Piper never wondered what could have been, especially not now. Though thoughts and worry of her father seeing her still patrolled her mind, she felt content and peaceful at this moment. She had Scott there and he eased her nervousness greatly, and she sent a small prayer of thanks to God for him.

All of the excitement started catching up to her as the adrinaline started wearing away. She yawned, leaning her head on Scott's arm. It reminded him of how small she was, and he could hear Jean's words in his head telling him to watch over her and keep her safe. Even if he would do so on this plane and everywhere else, he had a feeling that not even the Professor could save Piper from her nightmares.

Hours later Scott woke Piper from her sleep and they exited the plane. They searched for their bags, Piper once getting hers confused with an old woman's, and left for a taxi. Scott followed instructions from Xavier on a piece of paper and even more hours later, they found themselves driving through the woods.

Piper's spirits, however, were low. Rain rapped cruelly at the glass windows, her hair and drewss were wet and sticky from when they had gotten their rental car, and there was a weird smell coming from under her seat that she was scared to check. Scott had tried to cheer her up numerous times.

"I'm sure the tents will be nice and warm," he had tried to assure her at one point. "The lady who leads the troupe is very nice, and a friend of the Professor. I'm sure she'll lend you a towel to dry off with."

Piper had even tried reading her Bible during the ride to cheer herself up, or at least to keep her mind busy, but she only got car sick. Needless to say, her mood was very dour, a completely different mindset than Scott had seen on the plane. The sight of the Munich tents themselves didn't help her mood very much either. Scott had discribed them to be gold and red striped, with glowing lights and warm people surrounding the tents, luring and tempting visitors to come in and spend their coin. Instead, the tents looked like two shades of clay mushed together, the light coming through different RVs and caravans dull and cloomy. Only a tall person in a cloak stood in the rain, the hood up to protect the person's identity as well as themselves from the rain. Scott donned the coat he bought at one of the major cities she couldn't pronounce and openned the door, running to the firgure to speak to them. Piper got the notion that the circus was closed for the night and sighed.

She chose at that moment to look out her side window, just enough time to catch a figure run through the flap of a tent. She looked at Scott and the cloaked figure to see that they were engrosed in a conversation, Scott frowning and using his hands to help get his message through. She glanced between Scott and the tent for a few moments, almost hearing a little voice in her head whispering for her not to go after whatever it was, but her curiousity overwhelmed her.

She opened the door, the rain masking the sound, and slipped out, not shutting the door in case the adults heard. She had to squint against the rain and made her way to the still-open flap. She walked as slow as she could at first, so as not to draw Scotts attention, but as the rain soaked her clothes and seemingly her bones, she hurried faster until she was sprinting. She squeezed through the flap and shut it behind her. She stood gasping for a moment reveling in finally being warm, starting to squeeze out excess water from her dress, when a dark growling behind her made her freeze. She didn't want to turn around, didn't want to look to see what made the noise, least doing so were to make it real and not a figment of her imagination, but it continued and grew louder and more fearsome, and it made her turn around.

Crouching and stalking toward her was a fierce, angry looking white tiger. Fear made her take in every detail of it. It's lips were curled back in a protective snarl, its huge fangs glisening yellow and white with saliva. It's tiny ears were laid back, and it's eyes a haunting yellow-gold, reminding her of looking in a mirror, yet not quite as dangerous. The monster's fur was short, sleek, and glistened like snow and coal, and it's giant paws shed seemingly larger talons, all looking so very sharp. She faintly registered it's long tail swinging behind it menacingly.

Piper felt her heart hammer against her chest, almost as if the eyes she were staring into was somehow pulling it out of her. She felt frozen, though she could suddenly feel every limb of her body shaking uncontrolably. So overcome with fear was she that she felt tears prick at her eyes. She had been forced by one of the older mutants at the Mansion to watch a documentary of tigers after one of her Disney movies, and now flashes of tigers pouncing and tearing at their prey's flesh filled her thoughts. She was utterly terrified of this animal, and at the moment she felt like this beast's prey.

She jolted out of her thoughts as the beast crouched mere feet from her, ready to pounce. Instead of the flight or fight instinct that was supposed to whisper in her ear, she head instinct whisper _sing._ For a moment she didn't know what to do, to run or sing, but the voice came again. _Sing,_ She saw the monster's flank wiggle, almost reminding her of a domestic cat. _Sing, now!_

She opened her mouth, and instead of a scream as most girls would have done, a beautiful line of notes sprang to life. It made the tiger pause, so she continued, very much wanting to continue breathing. After a few seconds of watching the tiger relax, she listened to the song as well and recognised it as the second song that came on the radio what seemed like a lifetime ago. She started adding words to the soothing song. "We pray for blessings, we pray for peace, comfort for family, protection while we sleep.." She watched as the tiger lowered itself to the ground, and as she continued to listen to her own voice, she calmed as well. She lowered herself to her knees and sang a little louder, gaining a little confidence. She filled in the piano with her voice, becoming a one-child acappella. "We pray for healing, for prosperity. We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering. And all the while, You hear each spoken need, Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things..." She continued to serenade the beast, watching it lay it's head on it's mighty paws, it's claws thankfully stowed away. "What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near? What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?"

Piper jumped as she watched the shadows ahead of her and behind the tiger move, and as she skipped a few notes she watched as one, two, three tiny baby tigers made their slow, shy way to her and the now-realized mother tiger. Two of them, slightly larger than the third cub, nestled down with their mother next to her paws and nuzzled her face. The third and smallest of the family sidled next to her, rubbing it's large, fuzzy face on her hand and knee, then layed down and stared at her expectantly. She realized that she had stopped her song completely and obliged the baby's silent request. "We pray for wisdom Your voice to hear. And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near. We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love as if every promise from Your Word is not enough. And all the while, You hear each desperate plea and long that we'd have faith to belive.." She repeated the chorus, though it seemed like the tigers weren't really paying attention to the words. She wasn't either, and she really didn't understand them anyway. "When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win, we know that pain reminds this heart that is is not," she swallowed a lump in her throat as she remembered the next part of the song. The line resounded deep within her, and it seemed to be the only line of the song she really understood. "This is not our home..." She paused to wipe away a tear, "It's not our home. 'Cause what if Your blessings come through raidrops? What if Your healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near?" Her voice lowered, not only because the singer's did at this point in the song, but also because the song stinulated the same questions to resound in her head. It seemed that voicing them out loud made them exist, if only necause of the song. "What if my greatest disappointments, or the aching of this life is a revealing of a greater thirst that this world can't satisfy?" She put her hand on the runt tiger's head, feeling the baby's purr vibrate her hand. "And what if trials of this life: the rain, the storms, the hardest nights, are Your mercies in disguise?"

She let the song's piano ending trail off in her head, so deep in thought trying to study the song that she didn't follow it with even a slight humming. She wondered for a moment over the song, but didn't get very far when a dry, itchy tongue slid over her face. It tickled her scars so much that she burst into giggles, grasping the mother tiger on each side of her head and running her fingers through the fur in thanks. The tiger growled and Piper yanked her hands back, but she started licking Piper over her hair, face, neck, and arms. Piper giggled and flopped over, tired and relieved, and cried out in surpise when the cubs started crawling over her in play. Giggling turned into laughing and she picked up the smalled runt, wrapping it in her arms and hugging it. It wriggled free in a few moments and pounced on one of it's siblings, making Piper laugh again.

"Ich hörte dich singen.." She heard a voice speak behind her. She jumped from suprise, turning around so quickly the cubs jumped off her. She stared wide-eyed as a really dark and blue figure stepped out of the shadows of the tent. It was standing upright like a human, but it was covered in _blue,_ and the blue was it's skin, not clothes_._ And though it's head was down, she could see it look at her and the ground with bright, glowing yellow eyes. It's hands were behind it's back, but she could see it's toes and there were only two. She barely caught sight of a nervously swishing pointed tail before the humanoid spoke again. "Sie sind .. sehr gut darin." She blinked and stared at it. It stood upright like a human. It talked like a human, though in a language that she could only assume was German. It sounded human. It even acted human, a boy as far as she could tell, and he looked very familiar. He coughed and stuck a hand out, with only two fingers and a thumb she noted. "Mein Name ist Nightcrawler." Now that she could understand, and now she realized why he looked familiar.

"You're from the posters!" She exclaimed, jumping up and taking his hand. He winced but she didn't notice, so busy shaking his hand and wondering how she was meeting someone _famous._ Nightcrawler had been pointed out to her by Scott on one of the Munich circus's posters. He had told her that Nightcrawler was a mutant like him and her but he was forced into hiding, and she could see why. If her eyes and scars isolated her from the rest of the mutants at the Mansion, she could only imagine how blue skin- _fur_, she realized- yellow eyes, and a tail could be a problem with getting along with people.

Nightcrawler smiled at her nervously. How he could be nervous around her when he was obviously a few years older than her was beyond her. "Ja, I am ze main act." She jumped when he spoke in, albiet very accented, English. She grinned at him.

"Oh, you can speak English! What'd you say earlier?" She tilted her head at him as he blushed.

"Y-your singing, it vas sehr gut, very good." She had no idea why he was blushing but she smiled at him and was about to thank him when she felt tugging at her dress. She looked down to see the tiny tinger glaring up at her almost as if it was jealous of the attention she was giving the blue boy. Piper giggled and let go of his hand, kneeling and giving the big kitten a pet on her head. "I zink she wants you to sing again," Nightcrawler said, watching the two children. Piper blinked up at him, feeling the baby purr under her palm.

"Okay," she said simply, sitting back and wondering about what song she should sing. Just when she was going to ask him if he had any ideas, she heard the flap behind her open, the sound of rain becoming dominant. She shivered as cold wind shook her core and looked over her shoulder. She flinched as she saw a wet and red faced Scott looking down at her. She felt herself try to smile at him, but knew it was no use. His slightly bushy brows were knit over his red glasses and a frown scowled at her through the drops framing his face. She gulped. If he looked mad in the car, he was furious at her now. She suddenly saw a flash of her father with the same expression and looked down, knowing that if she didn't look at him then her beating wouldn't be as bad.

Scott's frown changed as he watched her and looked at the tigers surrounding her and the wary-looking Nightcrawler beside her. He felt his anger ebb away slowly to be replaced by worry and relief. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go get in the car," he told her evenly. He watched her get up silently and obey, staying as far away as possible when she passed him. There was silence for a moment as the near twenty-year old studied the older teen, and vice versa. Nightcrawler was the first to speak.

"You are a mutant as vell?"

Scott nodded. "I am."

"Und she as vell?"

He nodded again. "She is." Silence stretched again as Nightcrawler thought.

"Vill you boz come back vhen ze rain clears?"

Scott grinned. "She's magnetic isn't she?" Nightcrawler blushed and suddenly dissapeared in a puff of smoke. Scott laughed and turned, looking for the cloaked gypsy that was Nightcrawler's adoptive mother and leader of the Munich circus. _Wait til I tell the Professor about this,_ he thought. _The mutant he wanted to be friends with Piper has a crush on her instead._ He frowned when he thought about her. He had nearly pulled his hair out in panic when he found her missing from the car. He had seen that dead look in her eyes at her home in Oklahoma and in the car when he had asked her to hum and wondered if the two incidences were connected. He told the gypsy that he had found Piper and they would return to watch the circus when the rain cleared. He got in the car, drove to a motel not too far from the circus, and soon the both of them were in bed and sleeping.

A/N: Sorry about the uber long wait. I wish I could say I spent all that time going over this chapter to make it better (which is true) but I didn't. I kind of... sunk into a funk. I hope this isn't terribly terrible. The ages are a guestimate, but I am starting to think that Kurt is older than Scott in the movie. The German that Kurt speaks is from Google Translate, so if it's wrong please tell me. The songs mentioned and quoted in the story are Blessings by Laura Story and Down To The River To Pray by Alison Krauss from the movie O' Brother Where Art Thou.


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